


Seeing the Love

by Avrildulac



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, EWE, Flirting, Healer!Harry, Humour, M/M, Pining, Post-War, PotionsMaster!Draco, Romance, Seer, Wooing, post—hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6651472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avrildulac/pseuds/Avrildulac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: A Seer tells Harry he will meet the love of his life that very afternoon. Harry is a bit skeptical, especially when he runs into Draco Malfoy who insists on buying Harry dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeing the Love

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I saw LeontinaBowie's prompt a story started bubbling away inside my head! The story got much bigger than I originally intended and I need to thank the mods for putting up with me and my requests for extensions. And thank you to my beta/pre-reader AJax for your invaluable help sorting everything out.

Seeing the Love

\----------

The snapping of a twig causes Draco to look up from his work. He's crouched over a cluster of Snowden lilies, picking them in the light of the horned moon while their power is at its greatest. His wand is resting at his feet, the light from his Lumos casting a faint but steady glow while he snaps the tender white flowers from their grasslike stalks. 

He looks over to see a small rodent perched upon a craggy rock. 

"Hello," he calls. The rat-like creature regards Draco. It's difficult for Draco to discern its features in the dim moonlight. Even on top of the highest peak in Wales, the stars are easier to see than what could be lurking in the shadows five feet away.

"You're wondering about the lilies and how they're flowering in December." Draco counts the delicate white flowers cupped in the palm of his hand. They glow faintly in the moon's pale light and he gently tips them into a black velvet pouch. The only sound is the rush of wind through the overhead branches as they creak. The leaves have long since fallen for which Draco is glad; his work is made easier by the minimal moonlight he is afforded. "I've placed a Warming Charm on these. I need them for a potion I'm working on." The creature tilts its head. "Yes, you've caught me but I am reseeding the area. I've also placed a Shielding Charm around them. Can't have anything eating the flowers or leaves." Draco smiles and thinks he should feel ridiculous talking to the _rat? mouse?_ \--he'll have to look it up later at home-- but he unexpectedly feels relief at being able to talk about his work; he is rather proud of himself and doesn't have anyone to talk with at home. 

Draco gently picks three more flowers and places them in his bag before standing, wand in hand. He turns back to the rough, uneven volcanic rock but the rodent is gone. 

"Good night!" Draco calls into the darkness. He wipes his hands on his field work trousers and whispers, "Nox" as the light at his wand-tip is extinguished.

He's home and in his Potions lab moments later placing six flowers into the steeping contents of a brass cauldron and carefully placing the remainder inside a clear glass jar under a Stasis Charm.

\-------------

"Mr Potter?" 

Harry turns in the throng, looking over his shoulder to where he believes the speaker of the voice to be. He scans the crowd but no one appears to be looking at him expectantly so he turns back and glances at the festive ribbons and tinsel decorated window displays as he continues down High Street. He had decided to get an early start today and watches as his breath steams in the cold morning air.

Again, Harry hears the voice call, "Mr Potter." He stops and turns just as cool fingers slide over and tighten around his wrist. He looks down and sees a liver-spotted pale hand; his eyes quickly follow the brown wool-clad arm up to a face hidden in the shadows of a cloak. The hood is pulled back to reveal a wizened old witch smiling crookedly. 

"Mr Potter," she says again and Harry can hear the breathlessness in her voice. Immediately, he feels guilty as he wonders how long she's been trying to get his attention. She's at least two feet shorter than he is which makes him believe that's why he didn't see her when he first looked over his shoulder; he thinks he could have mistaken her for a child while her dark hood was obscuring her features.

He looks down at his wrist, which is still being held in a surprisingly strong grip, and hears Hermione's exasperated voice in his head, _Really, Harry, you can't stop and talk to everyone who wants to talk to you. Not everyone's intentions are good._ Then Luna's dreamy lilt reminds him that _Everyone just wants to thank you Harry. You know everyone is so grateful for all you've done._ Harry opts to follow Luna's voice as he argues with the Hermione inside his head: that yes, he does have good instincts about people.

A throat clears. He looks into the witch's small, milky eyes and realizes with a start that she is blind. "Yes, ma'am?" he asks and now feels even more irrational guilt for making her follow him down the crowded snow-covered cobbles of Hogsmeade. He reaches out with his other hand and closes his fingers around hers. He wants to get her out of the crowd before someone inadvertently bumps into her, or worse, knocks her down. He scans the shop windows and grimaces as he sees the Madame Pudifoot's sign.

"Please, let me buy you a cup of tea?"

She nods and Harry loops her arm through his and informs her, "Madame Pudifoot's is just to your right."

Harry guides her to the pink door and as his hand closes around the handle he momentarily closes his eyes. He pushes the door wide and cringes as the bell tinkles. The sweet, cloying aroma of icing sugar is overpowering and the ridiculously overdone frilly interior assaults his eyes. Harry looks to the witch and keeps his eyes on her as he carefully maneuvers her between the densely packed tables and guides her into a pink-cushioned chair with a golden scroll-worked backrest. He quickly glances around and focuses on keeping his breathing even; while he's glad it's not as frilly as the last time he was here, he still grimaces at the memories and all the lace and how cramped it is.

"Mr Potter." 

The voice, once again, draws him out of his reverie and, as he shakes the cobwebs from his mind, he scrapes out the chair and sits facing the older woman. 

She reaches her tiny hand across the table to introduce herself and says, "Llyg Annwn." She sniffs at the air twice and says in her clear voice, "Welsh, you know."

Harry grips her tiny fingers in his; she quickly squeezes his fingers and lets go. 

He smiles across the table at her and then feels silly. He is surprised and blinks wide eyes when she smiles back, which is strange since he knows she can't see him. His eyes find the waitress and he holds up two fingers to signal for a pot of tea and two cups.

Harry knows he's going to butcher her name; he can barely remember what she said when she introduced herself but he's decided to go with the a standard form of address to avoid the embarrassment. 

"Madam?" he asks as he looks again at the witch across the table. Her lined face is kind, her nose is thin and long, and her long hair is twisted into a bun. She is wearing dark brown velvety robes, with cream coloured lapels that match the lining in her hood. Harry wonders what she wants to say to him. He supposes that he's invited her to tea as she does remind of his once-upon-a-time-eccentric-neighbor-but-really-Dumbledore's-Order-of-the-Phoenix-spy Arabella Figg. 

"This very afternoon!" She exclaims smiling at him. Her face is lit, her eyes surprisingly bright as she smiles. Harry's been in his head and knows immediately that he's missed an important part of the conversation. 

"Excuse me?"

She harrumphs. "Listen to me very carefully, Mr Potter."

Harry fixes his eyes on her face.

"This very afternoon, you will meet the love of your life!" She proclaims, her milky eyes crinkling in the corners as she smiles broadly.

"What?"

"The love of your life!" she shouts. "How exciting for you!"

"Wait... What?" 

"Not everyone gets to find their true love." The witch reaches across the table and pats his hand. "The two of you will be so happy together!" 

Harry's mouth hangs open as the witch stands, pats him on the shoulder and murmurs, "Such a good boy." She weaves her way around the tiny linen-covered tables towards the door. He stares as she pulls open the door, turns with a smile and waves to him from across the room.

He's still staring at the door as Madame Pudifoot herself places two rose festooned bone china tea cups and a matching teapot on his table. 

Harry touches the place on his hand where the witch had just pressed her fingers. It doesn't look or feel any differently, but...

"Wait. What?" Harry whispers and looks through the spiraling steam at the empty chair across from him.

 

\------------

"You should have seen her, 'Mione!"

"Slow down, Harry." 

Harry takes a deep breath. "This old witch. She grabbed my wrist. I brought her into Madam Pudifoots-- she was blind. Did I already tell you that?"

Hermione smiles at Harry and gets up from her chair. She walks around her desk and stands next to the brown leather couch where Harry is sitting perched on the edge. She levitates a stack of books with papers stuffed between the pages to the far corner and sits next to him.

"I think she might've been..." Harry lowers his voice to a whisper, "crazy." 

"Harry." Hermione starts in her firm, no-nonsense voice, "I've told you not to talk to strangers on the street. You're just encouraging them." 

"Ughhh..." Harry moans. He removes his glasses and rubs at his dry eyes.

"What did she want? An autograph? A picture for her grandkids? A babysitter for her pet Kneazle?" Hermione's exasperation is clear.

Harry shakes his head. "She..." He begins and falters. "No, she just wanted to talk to me."

Harry looks at Hermione as she raises an expectant eyebrow.

"She told me." Harry sighs. "She told me that I'm going to meet the love of my life today. 'This very afternoon,' she said."

"This is why you barge into my office? To tell me what some crazy old witch who grabbed your hand in Hogsmeade told you?"

"She was blind," Harry yells. "She was blind," Harry repeats, whispering.

"Ok, so a blind woman grabbed your hand..."

"How'd she know it was me? She followed me down High Street, for Merlin's sake." Harry catches his voice rising again and does his best to lower it. "Come on, 'Mione, I had some ancient witch-- a blind ancient witch, whose name I can barely pronounce-- follow me down the street to tell me that I'm going to meet my true love. Today! It's creepy!" 

"Okay," Hermione admits, "it is a bit creepy."

"Do you think she cursed me?" Harry asks frantically. "She did grab my wrist and touch my hand..." He trails off and looks into Hermione's eyes for an answer.

"Did she have her wand out?" Harry shakes his head. "Did she say anything, murmur anything?"

Harry's eyes go wide. "What?" Hermione asks.

"She said... She said that I'm a good boy." Harry's face flushes.

"I think you're safe." Hermione smiles at him and stands, "Is that what you're worried about? That she cursed you? 

Harry nods. "Of course. You don't think I actually believe that nonsense about meeting my true love this afternoon, do you?" He smiles guiltily at her. "Thanks Hermione. It all seems so silly now. I knew you'd help me sort it out." 

Harry stands and wraps his grey scarf around his neck. "I'm gonna go see Ron, see if he wants to grab some lunch." He gives her a quick hug then shrugs as he leaves.

She smiles and shakes her head slowly as she makes her way back around her desk. She frowns at the stacks of paper, sits back down and then picks up a quill and continues writing on the parchment she was working on as Harry stormed in her office, all red faced and out of breath. "Oh, Harry," she breathes as the corners of her mouth turn up.

\------------

"This afternoon?" Ron asks with a full mouth as he sprays rice across the table.

"Yeah, Hermione said she doesn't think she cursed me." 

"But, what about, you know," Ron says waving his hand wildly through the air. 

"That I'll meet my true love this afternoon? What, are you kidding?"

"Hey, look, there's Cho! Hey, Cho!" Ron calls spitting out some of his prawn cracker. 

Cho turns, smiles and makes her way over to their table. "Enjoying your lunch?" she asks as she hitches the bag she is carrying higher up on her shoulder.

"Want to join us?" Ron asks. He's nodding his head and kicking out a chair for Cho. Harry notices his big grin getting wider and goofier as he stares at her.

"Thanks but, no thanks. It's a working lunch. Some of us are going over the new plays for next Sunday's game."

"Against the Harpies?" Harry asks. 

"Yeah. Hey, do you guys want some tickets?"

If it's possible, Ron's grin grows even wider. 

"That'd be great," Harry replies before Ron starts drooling.

"Great!" Cho responds. She points to a table across the room. "My teammates are here. I'll Owl you some tickets." She smiles at Ron and Harry, hitches her bag higher on her shoulder again and makes her way across the restaurant.

"Enjoy your lunch!' Ron shouts across the room, startling a few patrons.

"Do you think it's her?" Ron asks with a dreamy look in his eyes.

"What?"

"Just think, we'd get to go to so many Quidditch games..."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know," Ron says wistfully. At Harry's questioning look Ron says, "The witch! What if Cho is your true love?"

Harry throws the last banana fritter across the table. It hits Ron's shoulder but he's still too caught up in thoughts of Cho being Harry's true love and all the free Quidditch tickets for Ron to even notice.

\----------

The rushing river on Draco's right is distracting enough to cause him to miss his turn onto the overgrown path. He turns around and forces his attention away from the melodic gurgling of the reflective surface and finds the hidden trail. 

It's quieter here as he hikes deeper into the ancient forest-- the soil is almost black and the greens of the leaves and moss are strikingly vibrant-- making his way farther from the river and its many waterfalls cut into the limestone gorge. The sun's light breaks through the canopy of beech, oak, yew and ash at regular intervals revealing a verdant carpet of woodland plants. Draco has appropriately chosen this particular forest for it's temperate climate-- he knows he can find what he needs here.

Draco casts a quick Tempus as he must pick the next plant's leaves-- Dog's Mercury-- at noon when its powers are dormant. It's power is volatile so the small amount he needs is best harvested at mid-day. While Dog's Mercury grows abundantly along the main path he is looking for a secluded place that has not seen visitors. Draco has found its unpredictable behavior (it actually had curled all its leaves and turned them brown the first time Draco had attempted to harvest some leaves at midnight) and its annoyance at being accidentally trampled on creates unexpected results in his potions. He's learned exactly how mercurial this particular plant can be. 

He intentionally takes large steps off the overgrown path and stops under an enormous ash tree. With his back against the bark he carefully crouches down to examine the plant in front of him. Draco gently runs his index finger along one spear-shaped leaf and waits. He chooses another leaf held upright on its stem from the same plant and pets it carefully. Satisfied that the plant is, in fact, dormant, he quickly removes three leaves and stands. The leaves give off their typical foul odor and Draco wraps them carefully in a pale blue silk handkerchief as he steps away and makes his way back onto the path, carefully folding the handkerchief into his pocket.

"Oh. Hello," smiles Draco. Resting in the middle of the path is another of the same creature that Draco had met the other night when he was out collecting potion ingredients. " _Sorex araneus_ , I believe. I met another of your kind the last time I was in Wales." Draco reaches into the other pocket of his khaki field trousers and produces a different handkerchief, this one folded into a neat square. He regards the creature for a moment before lowering himself into a seated position on the ground. 

As he unfolds the silk fabric he reveals two plump, squirming earthworms. He picks one up between his forefinger and thumb and dangles it in the air. "For a common shrew you seem rather uncommon." Draco places the worm on the ground between them. The creature regards him curiously, its small, beady eyes darting to the meal as its long nose trembles and sniffs the air. "Go on, then," Draco whispers.

Draco holds completely still as the shrew takes a few tentative steps and then bounds on its lunch. The earthworm is devoured in seconds. Draco carefully holds out the second one and slowly places it on the ground. The shrew sniffs the air and then slowly makes its way forward. Snuffling the air a few more times, its whiskers quivering, it suddenly plops down on the ground and begins to slowly nibble at the worm while keeping a watchful eye on Draco.

"Uncommon, indeed," remarks Draco. "I was hoping to catch a glimpse of another one of your species. I don't normally carry earthworms around in my pockets, you know." Draco smiles down at the creature. It's dark brown fur looks velvety soft and Draco likes its twitching, pointy nose. "I'm collecting ingredients for a Dragon Pox vaccine. I'm rather proud of it, if you must know. I've believe I've finished my research and I think that the Dog's Mercury may be the breakthrough I've been looking for. I have to be careful as large doses are poisonous but a small dose has the purgative qualities the vaccine needs." Draco finds himself rambling, and to a shrew no less, but realizes he doesn't care. "Hopefully I can find the cure." Draco blushes. "It's my homage to Professor Dumbledore. He was working on it and well, I feel like I owe it to him." 

Draco looks down at the shrew, who has finished its last earthworm. It sniffs the air again and stretches before getting back to its feet. Baring its sharp, red tipped-teeth at him-- which Draco hopes is a friendly attempt at communication-- it scampers off into the undergrowth and disappears. 

"Bye!" Draco calls as he too stretches and gets to his feet before disappearing with the pop of Disapparition.

 

\-------------

 

"Good afternoon, Healer Potter."

Harry's changed into his lime green Healer robes by the time he steps onto the fourth floor of the Spell Damage Ward. He nods and smiles at the small group waiting for him in the center of the room; he is looking forward to his afternoon of rounds with his Healer-trainees. Although he had gotten a lot of questioning looks and the Prophet had written some annoyingly unflattering articles about why he didn't become an Auror, he's proud of himself and the fact that he's actually helping people-- helping them heal--and it's something he's really good at.

His Healer-trainees, who initially had been star-struck by the Boy Who Lived turned Savior, now see him as Healer Potter and respect him. They are standing in a semicircle facing him in a surprisingly quiet hallway as Harry looks over all 7 of his trainees-- five men and two women. They are looking at him expectantly with their self-inking quills and clipboards at the ready. He explains their duties for the day, which patients they will visit and which ones have been discharged. 

Harry has assigned each trainee a patient and as he listens to their diagnoses and treatment recommendations Harry finds himself looking into each of their faces more intensely that he ever has, wondering if one of this group could be his _true love_ as the seer had foretold. Ron's overzealous behavior from lunch commandeers Harry's thoughts and he is unable to stop the conflicting emotions churning in his mind. Harry knows it's absurd but just can't help thinking of all the _what ifs_ and the possibilities and all of people he is going to meet today. It could even be a patient, for Merlin's sake! He knows, if anything, that the witch was most likely a lonely woman looking for some human contact and not a seer, and he thinks, she _probably_ didn't curse him but then again, it could be a time release curse that has yet to... release. 

"Ugh!" Harry blurts and interrupts Healer Morgan, who is currently outlining her course of treatment to the group. Shaking his head he rakes his fingers through his hair. He quickly comes up with an excuse for his unprofessional behavior and says, "Sorry. Just remembered I forgot to sign a release. Please continue, Healer Morgan." She eyes him warily for a moment then finishes explaining how to remove an incorrectly applied Silencing Charm.

They make the rounds together, Harry questioning the Healer-trainees and unknowingly showing off his natural leadership skills as they answer Harry's questions and inquire about the patients and their care. Harry is hopeful for the future of the hospital; they're a great group of medi-wizards. 

While the group is focused on Nurse Jones removing a jinxed pair of mittens from the hands of a girl who tired of her piano lessons, Harry pulls Healer Morgan aside.

"I wanted to apologize for my outburst earlier. I want to make sure you know it had nothing to do with you or your medical treatment. You're fine. I mean, everything you said was fine."

"Thank you Healer Potter." 

"Harry."

"Then please. Call me Sirona. Harry." She smiles up at him from under her long blonde waves.

"Well, great." Harry says happily, turning back to the group. "Today you're going to visit Dark Arts," Harry tells the trainees and their eyes go wide. "Healer Sebastian is waiting for you. It will help with your training to see other wards and I'm meeting with colleagues to discuss a few patients."

 

\----------

Draco sees the conference room doors swing wide the same time the raucous laughter and hearty guffaws reach his ears. He'd taken the elevator to the second floor and had been leaning against the far wall waiting for the meeting to adjourn and now pushes himself upright. He smooths his robes and turns to face the Healers exiting the room.

"-- again on Thursday!" 

"-- Mrs Barrow's bottom!"

"-- consult with the Potions specialist regarding how the new treatment works out."

"Ah, there he is now. Mr Malfoy thank you for meeting me here." The stout man nods to Draco and turns, "Healer Albright, I will keep you informed." 

Draco holds out his hand, "Healer Macmillian."

"Ernie, please," he replies as he shakes Draco's hand. "It's good to see you again. Please," Ernie holds out his hand to motion Draco to begin walking down the hallway. "After you."

A movement out of the corner of Draco's eye catches his attention and he turns to see Harry Potter exiting the conference room. In an uncomfortable moment their eyes meet. Draco nods and Potter nods back then they both quickly break eye contact. Harry turns in the opposite direction and Draco begins walking toward Healer Macmillian where he is waiting a few paces away.

Draco offers Ernie a small smile as they begin to walk side-by-side down the long hallway.

"My office is just--"

"Can you excuse me for a moment?" Draco interrupts. He takes a deep breath, turns and then calls out, "Potter!" as he attempts to catch up with Harry.

"Potter, wait!" Draco call again just as Harry stops and turns to face Draco. Draco walks the last few feet separating them and stops in front of Harry who has his eyebrows drawn down in confusion.

"Potter," Draco says just as Harry says, "Malfoy."

They nod at each other once again and Draco notices how the lime green Healer's robes enhance the green of Harry's eyes. "I never got a chance to thank you," he begins.

Harry opens his mouth to reply, not even sure what he's going to say, when Draco continues, "To thank you _properly_."

Harry closes his mouth, then opens it again and says, "I appreciate it, but it's really not necessary."

"I insist," Draco replies. He pulls a small white card and a Muggle pen from a pocket in his billowing black robes. Draco looks at Harry sheepishly for a moment and then begins to write on the card.

"I would like to take you to dinner." Draco scribbles with his pen and pauses briefly to make eye contact with Harry. "Please," he adds and reaches out to give Harry the card. "Are you free this evening?" 

Harry takes the card and shakes his head. "Late shift tonight."

"Perhaps tomorrow?" Draco looks hopeful and Harry realizes that with a few small actions-- running down the hall after him, the "please," wanting to thank him by buying him dinner-- he seems so different. He looks mostly the same-- same pointy git in expensive, perfectly pressed robes-- but Harry _has_ seen the articles in the Prophet about Malfoy helping to develop new Potions for the sick _and_ he is here meeting with Ernie to discuss the feasibility of a Dragon Pox vaccination potion, so... "Tomorrow would be fine."

Draco's relieved smile is small but obvious. "Great. I've written the name and address of a restaurant on the back of my card. It's a Muggle restaurant-- will that be alright?" 

"Yes. Fine." Harry's reply is short as he feels unbalanced by this _new_ Draco Malfoy.

"Does seven o'clock suit you?"

"Yes. Fine," Harry mumbles absent-mindedly as he turns the card over and sees _Draco Malfoy, Potions Master_ printed in a dark green stylized font. Harry looks up realizing he's said the same words just a moment ago, clears his throat and amends, "Seven o'clock will be fine. I'll see you then."

"Yes." Draco smiles, bows his head and turns back to meet Healer Macmillian where he is waiting patiently outside his office.

\----------

Ron is doubled over holding his stomach. His body is shaking and there are tears in his eyes. He takes a deep breath and chokes out "Draco Malfoy! You're going to _shag_ Draco _bloody_ Malfoy!" 

Harry's arms are crossed tightly across his chest. "Fuck off, Ron."

"This is the best! All those years you spent following him around! 'I know Malfoy's up to something'," Ron says mimicking Harry's voice. "Oh... this is priceless!"

"Seriously Ron. Fuck. Off."

"I can't stop laughing... My stomach hurts," whines Ron. "I can't believe you're going on a _date_ with Malfoy!"

"It's not a date," Harry mumbles. He's sitting opposite Ron on the edge of the maroon couch at Ron and Hermione's flat. His elbows are resting on his knees and his hands are covering his face. His fingertips are over his eyes which has pushed his glasses up on his forehead.

"Sorry, mate. I didn't really hear much-- I stopped listening to what you were saying when you said you saw Malfoy at work and he's taking you to dinner."

Harry quickly looks over at Ron. "I _said_ that when I was walking out of the conference room Malfoy came running up to me and said he wanted to _thank me_ by taking me out to dinner, you dick. What the hell are you on about shagging for?" Harry removes his hands and his glasses plunk down on his nose. He raises his eyebrows and looks at Ron expectantly. 

"Yesterday, remember?" Ron asks. When Harry shakes his head, confused, Ron continues. "The witch?"

"The batty lady that cursed me?"

"The _seer_ that told you about meeting the love of your life?"

"You would be hung up on that part." Harry leans back and rests his head on the back of the couch. "No, I'm pretty sure she cursed me. Look." Harry holds out his hand for Ron to see. "Where she touched my hand. It's turning purple."

"Seriously?" All colour drains from Ron's face and his eyes are big as Bludgers as he grips the armrest, "Let's Floo Hermione." 

"No, you dick. I'm kidding. I banged my hand on the wall when I was levitating a patient to another room."

"You suck." Ron settles himself back in his seat. "But seriously, mate. What the witch said about you finding the love of your life, or true love, or whatever-- what if it's Malfoy?

"It's not fuckin' Malfoy. She said someone I would _meet_ \-- I met you for lunch, Cho at the restaurant, all my trainees, a dozen Healers at our weekly Patient Review _and_ Malfoy. It could be any of them-- or Hermione-- I saw her too!"

Ron blanches at hearing Hermione's name. "Oh, for fuck's sake Ron-- it's not Hermione. It's not any of them because I did _not_ meet my true love yesterday. Just some old witch that wanted to touch Harry Potter's hand. Seriously, forget it." Harry stands and adjusts the cuffs on his light grey button down. He pats the pockets of his black Muggle jeans, checking to make sure he can feel his wand and money clip. He looks down at his shiny black Muggle shoes and sighs. 

Ron shakes his head slowly as the right side of his mouth turns up. "You look good Harry. Stop worrying."

Harry grabs his coat and takes the card Malfoy gave him, closing his eyes he concentrates on the alley behind the restaurant where he is meeting Malfoy. Destination. Deliberation. Determination. He does not want to be the fool and show up in front of Malfoy missing an arm, or worse, to not be able to pronounce the name of his wine. He had explored the area earlier today and familiarized himself with the menu and pricing. As he feels the first tug of Disapparition he hears Ron call out, "Have fun on your date!"

He arrives at his Apparation point a few blocks away. When he had checked out the area earlier he made sure to find a quiet place-- he is now standing in an alley between art gallery delivery doors. He shakes his head at Ron's farewell and glances at the restaurant's name on Malfoy's well-worn card before he pockets it once again.

Harry walks out onto the busy sidewalk and makes his way to the front of the elegant restaurant, Cecconi's. A quick glance at his reflection in the large glass-windowed front allows him a moment to take a deep breath and run his hand through his wind tousled hair. As he approaches the front door it swings open and he is greeted by a tall man in a suit. "Good evening, sir."

"Good evening," Harry replies. His eyes quickly scan the poshly decorated black, white and green interior. "I'm meeting a colleague for dinner, last name is Malfoy." Harry removes his wool coat and hands it to the coat check just as another man says, "Yes, sir, if you would please come this way Robert will show you to your table."

The entire back wall is a mirror and Harry watches himself as he follows another man in a suit past a white and grey veined marble-topped bar. The room is warmly lit by recessed lighting in the ceiling and crystal chandelier sconces mounted along the wall on the richly patterned wallpaper to his right. Three silver champagne buckets stand at one end of the green velvet banquet seating that wraps around the room. They pass through round and rectangular tables lavishly draped with white linens to a round corner table. Harry watches Malfoy in the mirror as he approaches. As he stands to greet Harry, Harry realizes that with his white-blond hair, fitted black tailored suit with light grey waistcoat and emerald green tie that Malfoy coordinates with the decor perfectly. Harry finds he's not surprised-- _Really, Malfoy? Slytherin much?_ \--and smiles broadly as he greets Malfoy. 

"I'm glad you could make it," Malfoy holds out his hand. There is a brief look of panic in Malfoy's grey eyes before he schools his features and flashes his teeth in a tentative smile. Harry knows that Malfoy is thinking of the last time he held out his hand for Harry to shake and he quickly reaches out to clasp Malfoy's hand.

"Thank you." 

The evening starts out awkwardly with frequent bouts of uncomfortable silence but as he finishes his winter leaf salad and first glass of wine Harry is beginning to feel more comfortable and perhaps a bit loose tongued. 

"Did you plan your attire to match the restaurant?"

"Of course not!" Draco snaps. The flush of embarrassment on Malfoy's face is obvious as he picks up his wine glass and gulps down the remaining liquid. Harry knows that is definitely a breach of pureblood etiquette but decides to keep quiet. While he quite enjoys goading Malfoy, he does want to finish his dinner. Malfoy delicately pinches the stem of his wine glass between his thumb and forefinger and spins his glass carefully making sure to keep his eyes focused anywhere but on Harry.

Harry clears his throat and reaches for the bottle of David Moret Puligny Montrachet-- which was at the table _breathing_ when Harry arrived-- and refills both of the bulbous tulip-shaped glasses. At £105 a bottle Harry is going to appreciate the Burgundy that Malfoy ordered. Harry had barely read the menu when he situated himself on the deep, soft green velvet-- he had already spent hours online going over the wine list making sure he could pronounce the names and had decided upon his entire meal earlier that afternoon while sitting on his couch wearing his light blue pajama bottoms. Instead, he surreptitiously watched Malfoy while he perused the menu. 

"Sorry." Harry looks down. "It's just, well, you know. Kind of hard not to notice all the Slytherin colors." 

Malfoy snorts. Harry chances a glance at Malfoy to see him smirking.

"Well, you'll be quite impressed at the bar I've picked out for after dinner drinks. The establishment is done in Gryffindor red and gold." Malfoy's face is carefully neutral but Harry notices a light of enjoyment in his eyes.

"Really? Wait. No." Harry pauses and slowly shakes his head. "I almost fell for that. You know Malfoy, you're actually funny."

Harry is almost as shocked by the words as they leave his mouth as Draco who is sitting next to him opening and closing his mouth like a fish gasping for air. Luckily, a waiter arrives to remove their plates and the sommelier appears with another bottle of Burgundy. They both pretend interest in the corkscrew and how the sommelier opens the bottle while they try to come up with something else to say. The sommelier pours a small amount into a clean glass. Harry watches as Malfoy expertly holds the glass up to the light. He swirls the rich red liquid under his nose, sniffs and finally takes a sip. Harry thinks he should look like a pompous twat but finds himself enjoying Malfoy's quiet confidence. A slight nod from Malfoy and the sommelier sets the cork next to the bottle and backs away.

Harry gathers his courage and opens his mouth to tell Malfoy about his almost-sorting into Slytherin just as Malfoy says, "I never really did get to thank you properly." His smile is close-lipped as he tilts his head to the side. Harry notices how his pale hair falls across his forehead and obscures one eye. It makes him look softer and somehow less pointy. Although, Harry supposes, it has been over nine years since they left Hogwarts and about eight since he has last seen him. "Potter? Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course," Harry answers and looks away from Malfoy's grey eyes just as he lifts a hand to brush the hair away from his forehead. Definitely less pointy.

"I truly appreciate everything you did to help Mother and me. It was very chivalrous and gentlemanly. You saved me from another life of Hell and I will always be indebted to you for that."

"You're welcome." Harry can see the sincerity in Malfoy's eyes and makes sure to accept his apology. He doesn't want Malfoy to think he is making light of the situation. He knows how dire their situations were and how close to death they both had been. Harry locks his eyes on Malfoy's and reaches his outstretched hand across the table. "And thank _you_ ."

For a moment Harry's hand remains unclaimed and for a split second Harry thinks _his_ handshake is being rebuffed until Malfoy quickly blinks his eyes and sighs. "Thanks Harry." He reaches across the table and grips Harry's hand in his. Harry sees the relieved look on Malfoy's face as their palms press together, hands squeeze, and then let go. A moment later the waiter arrives and sets their steaming plates in front of them-- Malfoy's the Gressingham duck with a mustard mash and Harry's a ribeye with rosemary potatoes. Harry watches Draco; his head is bent toward his plate but he's looking at Harry from under his fringe with a wide smile on his face.

The remainder of dinner is spent in comfortable silence with Malfoy smiling broadly at Harry and only occasional comments of how delicious their meals taste. Harry thinks he should feel uncomfortable but it's as if a great weight has been lifted-- off of both of them really-- and he decides he is enjoying his meal, his wine and Malfoy's company, as strange as that sounds. When they push away their plates and lean back on the plush emerald cushions another waiter appears with a dessert tray. The table is being cleared as they look over the sweet offerings. Draco shakes his head and looks to Harry just as he says, "While I really love chocolate and that torte looks fantastic, I'm going to pass."

After the check is placed on the table, Harry wonders aloud about Draco and Muggle money. Harry also points out how Draco also seems comfortable and at ease in a Muggle restaurant. "You'd be surprised at how much I wanted to learn about Muggles once I no longer had a parent standing over me telling me what I had to believe," he smiles sadly.

While Draco counts out the Muggle money held in a monogrammed money clip Harry notices the cork resting between them on the table. He picks it up, rolls it between his fingers and absent-mindedly slips it into his trouser pocket. 

Malfoy's smile looks wistful as they stand by the door and are helped into their coats. The door is opened for them and as a cold wind rushes in Harry can see a few snowflakes falling. He and Malfoy step out onto the sidewalk and beneath the yellow street lamps shake hands goodnight.

"Thanks for dinner."

"Thank you for joining me." Draco smiles brightly and turns in the opposite direction that Harry had come from earlier. Harry adjusts his scarf and watches Malfoy walk slowly down the sidewalk, his black coat flapping against his calves, the snow falling faster and just beginning to stick on the ground. He can see the steam escaping from Malfoy's mouth as he whistles-- _whistles?_ \--and continues down to the end of the street. Just as Malfoy turns the corner Harry swears he can see Malfoy, under the gauzy yellow light, trying to catch a snowflake on his tongue. 

Amused, Harry turns around and heads back toward the alley to Disapparate home. He feels light with happiness and can't remember the last time he had such a pleasant night out. Harry thinks it must be all the wine because, surely it couldn't have been Malfoy's company.

\----------

That night Harry lays in bed and replays the events of his day. He'd worked the late shift the night before so had slept in. He took Teddy and Andromeda to lunch and spent a few hours back at their house playing with Teddy while Andromeda had finished her Christmas shopping. He went over his case notes at the kitchen table while he had his afternoon tea and had been by Ron and Hermione's for a few hours before heading out to meet Malfoy. While Harry had only spent about three hours with Malfoy he finds himself thinking mostly about his unusual evening and his surprising dinner companion. The wine cork that he had found in his pocket when he got home is now sitting on his bedside table. Harry falls asleep with a grin on his face and thoughts of when he'll see Malfoy again.

\----------

"Fancy seeing you here." Harry looks up from his mostly empty plate of chips and sees Healer Morgan-- Sirona-- looking down at him with a cup of cafeteria coffee in each hand.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks. She smiles and sits across from him at the small table plunking a handful of sugar packets and stir sticks down on the table.

Harry smiles and thanks her as she pushes one of the cups of coffee towards him. "I'm surprised you're still here," he tells her as he wandlessly levitates the leftover chips to a nearby rubbish bin.

"Well, I had one more thing to do before I left." She grins and asks, "Double shift?"

"Not originally," Harry laughs. "Healer Beckett called off sick." 

"Ah..." Sirona trails off. She smiles again. "There's something I need to ask you'" she says more seriously. She picks up a sugar packet and begins smacking it gently on the tabletop.

Harry thinks she looks nervous and then Ron's hearty laughter and the witch's shouted proclamations come rushing back. He had put those thoughts from his mind but now his anxiety about being cursed or meeting a lover are once again at the forefront of his mind. He feels the blood drain from his face and a prickly heat on the back of his neck. 

"Are you alright?" Sirona asks.

Harry gathers his courage and smiles. He doesn't want to offend her but he _can't_ date one of his trainees-- _he's her supervisor, for Merlin's sake!_ \--and while he knows it's not ethical Harry can't help thinking that she's not even his type.

"I--"

"I'm not asking you out on a date, if that's what you're worried about," she jokes and tears the top off the packet spilling the sugar into her coffee.

"No. I know that," says Harry, relief calming his features and allowing the colour to come back to his face.

"Good." Sirona stirs her coffee. "Being a Healer is too important. My focus is on studying and healing-- definitely not dating. Will you be offended if I say you're not even my type?"

Relieved, Harry replies, "Not at all."

"Good. I'm glad that's taken care of." Sirona brings her had to her forehead and pretends to wipe away sweat. "So... can I take home the case notes on Winslet this weekend? I want to do some more research on the permanency of her spell damage and I'd like to have her file close at hand. Is that okay?

"Yes. Perfectly okay." Harry knows she's signed all the patient confidentiality agreements and releases and besides, he thinks, she's his best trainee even if he can't say it aloud. Harry admires her dedication and enthusiasm.

"Thank you," she says happily and stands, pushing in her chair and stuffing the sugar packets and stir sticks into her robe pockets before picking up her coffee. "I really appreciate it. I'm going to go get her file now and get started!"

"Enjoy your weekend!" Harry calls after her retreating back.

"I will!"

Harry sighs and closes his eyes. He has to be back on the fourth floor in a few minutes and wants to enjoy his last few moments of quiet before he begins his next shift.

"Ah. Fancy meeting you here."

Harry opens his eyes and looks up into the clear grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. Draco pulls out a chair and sits opposite Harry.

"I work here Malfoy," Harry says slowly. He lifts the paper cup to his lips and takes a tentative sip of coffee that he knows has been heated for too long. Disgusted, he places it on the metal table and pushes it away before glancing at _Malfoy? Draco?_ He's not sure what to call him now. 

Draco is wearing billowing black robes with a high collar that completely covers his neck, making his pale face look ethereal. Harry finds himself thinking about the suit Malfoy had worn to Cecconi's. While his robes look good in that pureblood aristocratic way Harry finds that he likes Malfoy in his fitted suit better-- it's more fitted and Draco is more... Fit. Harry quickly clears his throat.

"I was just meeting with Macmillian," Draco begins.

"No... Ernie's off today."

"Ah." Draco undoes the top button of his robes and rests one ankle on the opposite knee. Undoing a few more buttons with his right hand he reaches into an interior pocket. His mouth is closed and his lips pull up at the corners. Harry thinks he looks quite pleased with himself. "I remember you saying how you love chocolate and I saw these special edition Dark Chocolate Frogs and thought you would enjoy the pun. And the chocolate." Draco places the deep purple and gold wrapped chocolate on the table and slowly pushes it over to Harry's side.

"That's pretty funny," Harry says smiling. With two fingers he pulls the chocolate closer. 

"Enjoy, Potter." Draco stands, and looks down at Harry for a brief moment. He seems to be about to say something but then turns quickly. His long black robes swish around his ankles dramatically as he walks towards the exit.

Harry peels open the wrapper and quickly pinches the frog between his fingers before it hops away. With his other hand he picks up the wizarding card only to see himself staring back under the caption 'Defeater of the Dark." He shakes his head and pops the entire frog in his mouth, thinking that he's actually the _eater_ of the dark today. Luna would laugh at his lame joke, Hermione would shake her head at him and yet he is amused by it anyway.

The silky chocolate melts on his tongue and immediately dispels the lingering taste of burnt coffee. He closes his eyes to savour the flavor and then suddenly blinks them open. _Did Draco Malfoy just bring me chocolate?_

\----------

"Draco _bloody_ Malfoy brought Harry chocolate!"

"Oh, Ron... Stop being so juvenile." Hermione shakes her head at Ron and turns to Harry. "What is he on about, Harry?"

"Ugh..." Harry moans and scrubs at his face with both hands and mumbles something Hermione can't understand. 

Hermione reaches over and peels Harry's hands away from his face. "What?"

"Draco _bloody_ Malfoy brought me chocolate," he says pulling his hands from Hermione's grasp and covering his heated face.

"Oh. _Oh..._ " 

Harry picks up his glasses from the coffee table and pushes them back into place and sees Hermione looking at him with a knowing look on her face. 

"No! Not you too!"

"Come on, Harry," she begins as Ron nods his head. "She did say you would meet the love of your life."

"It's Malfoy!" Harry exclaims. "I think I'd rather be cursed."

"Harry..." Hermione coos as she pats his hand. "You don't mean that. Is it because it's Malfoy or because he's a man?"

"Because it's Malfoy!" Ron shouts just as Harry whispers, "Because he's a man?"

Hermione looks at him with kind eyes. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Can I just go home now?" 

"Harry... Please." Hermione is gripping Harry's hand rather tightly. The look on her face is so hopeful. Harry glances over at Ron who is smiling and nodding. 

"Telling you, I guess." 

"I _knew_ it!" shouts Ron. 

"Ronald, shhh," she chides. "Harry needed to be the first one to say it."

"You mean you knew?" Harry looks back and forth between his best friends. They both look smug. Ron's grin is huge. "My dad owes me 10 Galleons!"

Harry looks at Ron flabbergasted. "You made a bet with your dad about whether I was gay?"

"Nah," says Ron. Harry feels relief wash over him until Ron continues. "About whether you would come out before Christmas." 

Harry moans. "Just kill me now."

Harry closes his eyes and listens as Hermione gets up from the couch. He can hear cupboards opening, drawers closing and the sound of running water and knows that Hermione is making tea. He sits in silence for a few minutes waiting for Ron to say something. When he finally opens his eyes it is to see Ron smiling at him. 

"How long have you known?" Harry asks.

"Almost as long as you, I reckon. Hermione, probably a little more." 

Harry smiles weakly. "Does everyone know?"

"I think so." 

Hermione comes back into the room carrying a tea tray. She places it on the table between them and plops down next to Harry. "I think everyone's just been waiting for you to say it first."

Harry purses his lips. "It's a good thing, Harry." Hermione continues. "No one's going to treat you any differently. Your family loves you." She adds milk to her tea and sits back with an expectant expression.

"I know." Harry smiles tentatively. "I guess."

"You'll see, Harry." Hermione slides closer to him and envelopes him in a warm hug. Ron drops down on his other side and pats him on the back.

"Do you think Malfoy knows?"

Ron snorts. "What? That you're into guys or that he's your true love?" Hermione reaches across Harry and lightly smacks Ron in the arm. 

Ron grabs them both in a hug and starts making kissing sounds. Harry rolls his eyes, shakes his head and laughs.

\---------

"You'd have to be blind to not see that Harry's gay!"

Harry flushes and continues to stare fixedly at the heaping plate in front of him. "Thanks, Fred."

"Boys, eat your dinner," Molly chides.

"That's not true, Fred," Hermione begins carefully. When all heads have turned toward her she continues gleefully, "The witch was blind and even _she_ knew Harry was gay!"

"Hermione!" The other six people at the table exclaim in stunned voices.

"Nice one!" shouts Ron, holding up a hand for Hermione to high five.

"Well, Harry. It is kind of obvious." Ginny explains from the other side of the table.

"To who?" Harry asks, clearly exasperated.

Arthur, who has been sitting at the head of the table the entire time listening, now speaks up. "Only to those who know and love you, Harry." He pats Harry on the hand and smiles gently. Harry feels a pleasant tightness in his chest as he realizes just how much the people at this table love and accept him. He glances around the table at these faces who mean the world to him and smiles broadly at each of them in turn.

"Mum," Fred begins in a stage whisper, "Harry's gone funny. Look at his face."

"Oh, hush Fred. All of you leave Harry alone and eat your roast before it gets cold." Silence falls over the table as Molly stands and picks up a serving spoon. "Now, who wants more potatoes?"

\----------

"Who knew that shrews make such lovely conversationalists." Draco stretches his legs and leans back on his elbows enjoying the warmth of the winter sun on his face. He had plucked a handful of plump earthworms from his trouser pocket-- a dozen at least-- and neatly placed them on the path in front of the furry creature. He is now reclining on the dirt path smirking at thoughts of _if only Father could see how far I've fallen!_

He is content. He is happy. And he is stretched out in the dirt talking to a rodent: a dark brown rodent with a twitchy nose and a long slender tail that he specifically went looking for. His potion is coming along wonderfully and he had wanted to talk with someone, well _something_ about its progress.

"I want to ask Harry out again," Draco blurts. He sits up suddenly and crosses his long legs. "Well, last time it was to thank him. This time I want to ask him on a date." Draco scratches the back of his neck. "What do you think?" The shrew looks up from its meal and blinks its beady eyes at Draco.

Draco looks at his hands as he picks imaginary dirt from under his manicured nails. "I think he was very silly to assume I wore a green tie because of Slytherin colors." Draco muses, "Have you seen his eyes? They're so _green!_ I bet you can guess what my favourite colour is... Anyway, I've liked him for quite some time. It'd be difficult not to. It's just that he's always so _unapproachable_. I promised myself when I saw him again I would invite him out. And I did. And he was fantastic."

Draco babbles on about their dinner at Cecconi's, how much he enjoyed Harry's company and the fact that he brought Harry chocolate the next day. He doesn't tell the shrew, but he didn't just stumble across the chocolate; he had seen it weeks ago and when he found out that chocolate was a favourite of Harry's he went right to Honeyduke's the next day. It was a perfect gift for Harry. A small smile plays on his lips as he stands. 

"I'll be at St Mungo's later today-- do you think it would be okay to seek out Harry and ask him to dinner?" 

Not surprisingly, the shrew says nothing but Draco swears it winks at him.

\----------

Draco's frustration is visible on his face as he slowly stirs the simmering contents of the brass cauldron that rests on its stand above a neatly contained fire. He feels like an awkward, self-conscious school boy and he hasn't felt this way in a long time. He had and continues to work very hard after Harry spoke for him before the Wizengamot at the Trials. Draco was given a second chance and was going to make the most of it. 

Draco had gone to McGonagall and with her help and that of Dumbledore's portrait, was allowed to complete his NEWTS. He secluded himself in a tiny flat he purchased with a Ministry-decreed stipend after he excommunicated himself from his parents. He no longer wanted to be known as an arrogantly-pompous-pureblooded-narcissistic-bully-whose-parents-had-aligned-his-family-with-the-most-evil-of-men and worked diligently to change that. He knows he was a child during Voldemort's reign but still feels guilt over his actions although most of them were forced, if not literally than upon threats of torture or death.

Draco studied, made careful and thoughtful connections and passed his Potions Master exams. He gruelingly interviewed with countless Potions Masters until one finally saw who he had become and agreed to train and council him. After years of cautious work under his mentor, Grant Wiggenweld, he finally become a Potions Master himself and branched out on his own. Draco's dedication to his work and his benevolence towards others helped him forge an alliance with St Mungo's. Ironically, The Daily Prophet often features articles on _Draco Malfoy: Humanitarian_ and has finally stopped mentioning his ties to Voldemort and Death Eaters. And while he occasionally gets a dirty look or a sneer tossed his way it's been exactly fourteen months and three days since anyone has spit on him. 

Draco continues to stir the potion while peering into its nebulous depths. With his other hand he waves away the steamy vapours and inhales deeply. 

"I don't understand..." He moans, placing the glass stirring rod on the table. Draco stands with his arms crossed tightly across his chest as he examines the simmering brew. He checks the thermal energy and the height of the flames for the tenth time and flips through his notes, looking for something _anything_ to help him understand why the vaccine isn't working. He's done the research, his wand movements have created the correct magical energy, he's compared his formulae with that of the late Headmaster Dumbledore-- and improved it where necessary. He knows his calculations are correct but can't determine his error, unless... is he missing an ingredient?

He'll have to think about it later. Right now he has a meeting with Ernie that he is not looking forward to. He had expected to have results by now, and had told Ernie as such, and not only is he a disappointment to himself he now has to go and disappoint Ernie and the patients on the Magical Bugs and Diseases ward. 

With a long melancholy sigh, Draco picks up his notes, closes his eyes and Disapparates to St Mungo's for an unpleasantly embarrassing meeting with Healer MacMillian.

\------------

Draco leaves Ernie's office an hour later. They had again discussed symptoms of Dragon Pox-- pock marks on the skin and a lasting greenish tinge, a green-and-purple rash between the toes and sparks shooting out of the nostrils when the patient sneezes. And while most patients do recover, the disease can be fatal and is highly contagious. Draco's steps are lighter as he leaves the office with renewed vigor in resolving the issue after his conversation with Ernie. He plans to head back to his Potions lab and knows just the book he needs to further his research.

He wants to make a few more notes so that he doesn't lose his train of thought and decides to grab a quick cup of tea in the hospital cafeteria while he jots down his ideas. Maybe Harry will be there. Maybe he can run some ideas by him. After all, Draco knows, he was rather good in Potions. Draco picks up his pace; excitement at seeing Harry is bursting through his body.

He is just rounding the corner when he sees him; Harry is leaning against the wall and laughing with an attractive blond woman. Draco freezes. The woman's hand is resting on Harry's arm and she is smiling up at him with such a look of happiness on her face that Draco suddenly feels like he is intruding on something special. 

Draco immediately turns and walks back around the corner as quickly, and quietly, as he can. He leans heavily against the wall, closes his eyes and focuses on calming himself down. _Why is he breathing so heavily?_ He can't imagine his day getting any worse. First the Dragon Pox vaccine didn't work and now fucking Potter is enamored with some blonde bint who clearly has the hots for him. Fucking shit. He intentionally bangs his head against the wall a few times trying to clear the headache he can feel blooming behind his eyes. He rakes his hand through his hair and lets his hand rest on his temple as he forces himself to breath slowly. He knows he had something important to write down but right now he could care less about finding the vaccine. His heart is breaking.

\----------

Harry looks down to where Sirona is resting her hand on his arm. He doesn't really like her hand there but knows by her bedside manner that she is just a very tactile person. He's glad they've had the "just friends" conversation but he still shifts intentionally so that her hand falls away. 

"So, how about that coffee?" Sirona asks.

"Sure. But not here. I know a great coffee shop on High Street, would that be okay?"

"Perkatory?"

"That's the one. Can we meet there in about 20 minutes?"

"See you there," Sirona sing-songs as she walks away.

Twenty-five minutes later Harry is walking into the coffee shop with damp hair and wearing a clean set of Healer robes. He needs to remember to keep a pair of jeans and a shirt in his locker for times like this. He spies Sirona sitting at the window at the long counter overlooking Hogsmeade. She's engrossed in a medical dictionary and has a patient's file open in her lap. He walks toward the counter and waits his turn in queue. He'll join Sirona at the window seat as soon as he gets his coffee.

 

\----------

Draco watches the cobbles at his feet as he walks. The tips of his black boots flash in and out of his line of sight while he recounts the magical, mundane and transitional ingredients of the potion.

"Hmmm...." he hums aloud. He furrows his brow and purses his lips; his confusion is clearly evident. A flitter of movement out of the corner of his eye causes him to look over at the deep red bricks and he sees...

"Is that a _shrew?_ " he asks himself incredulously. He sees a small ball of brown fur and a long, slinky tail disappear down the alley. While he knows it has to be a rat, or a mouse-- he is in Hogsmeade, after all-- he can't help himself as he follows it. 

The late afternoon sun casts long shadows over the alley as he slowly makes his way down the narrow path between buildings. He's watching the ground along the walls in hopes of catching a glimpse--

"There!" He shouts. The shrew-- for it is a shrew, Draco is sure of it-- scurries down the alley keeping close to the wall, darting around a puddle and over a crumpled Daily Prophet. Draco is surprised at how fast it can run and begins to jog to keep up with it. Just before the alleyway ends the shrew darts out in front of him and turns the corner. Draco sidesteps to avoid crushing the poor thing, still watching the ground as he turns the corner, his eyes searching for the shrew and--

"Oof!" The breath is knocked out of him as a body slams into Draco. He looks up into startled green eyes. "Harry?"

"Draco?" 

"I was chasing a shrew--"

"I thought I saw this witch I met--"

Harry smiles. Draco notices he isn't wearing his glasses but instead is holding them in his right hand.

"Sorry," Draco says as Harry smiles again.

"No need. I wasn't paying attention either."

Draco stares, speechless for a few moments before shaking his head. "They're so much greener..." Draco trails off.

"What? My robes?" Confused, Harry reaches down and plucks at his lime green Healer robes. "They're not the best color choice--"

"No." Draco shakes his head. "Your eyes." Harry is about to tell Draco off for mocking him but when he puts his glasses on and looks at Draco's face it is to see that his eyes are closed and a faint flush is creeping up Draco's neck.

Draco clears his throat. "Sorry," he says softly. "I've never seen your eyes without your glasses. They're very, um, green."

"Yes." Harry thinks Draco's speech is normally so eloquent and polished and selfishly decides it's okay if the greenness of his eyes is causing Draco unease.

"Harry?" a female voice calls. Draco looks over to see the blonde bint from the hospital approaching them. He sighs and quickly thinks of an excuse for leaving. He does _not_ want to be around Harry and his girlfriend.

"Well, Potter, as lovely as it was running into you..." he begins but is interrupted by the bint sticking out her hand.

"Sirona Morgan." 

"Draco Malfoy," he responds drily as he shakes her hand. 

"Harry and I work together," she continues as Harry makes no effort to introduce them. "He's my boss." Sirona cocks her head and smiles. Both she and Draco watch as a slight flush appears on Harry's cheeks. 

"No. Not really," Harry explains. "I'm just her supervisor while she's still in training."

"Same thing." Sirona grins as she looks at Draco and then at Harry. "Well, boss _and_ friend. Thanks for running out of the coffee shop on me, Harry. Anyway, I have to get back to work. I left your coffee on the table if you still want it." Sirona's eyes travel the length of Draco's body and he feels as if he's being carefully considered. But for what?

Sirona reaches out and squeezes Harry's hand, her expression amused. 

"Nice meeting you," she calls to Draco as she walks off. 

"Yes!" Draco calls. "It's always a pleasure to meet one of Harry's friends!" Draco turns back to Harry suddenly much happier.

"Always?" Harry asks dubiously.

"Yes."

"What friends of mine have you thought it's a pleasure to meet?" 

"Well, as long as they're you're _friend_ it's a pleasure to meet them."

Harry finds himself grinning with happy satisfaction at Draco's admission. He feels a warm flush rising on the back of his neck and sticks his hands in his robe pockets to stop himself from fidgeting. He clears his throat, suddenly embarrassed.

"So."

Harry shrugs. "Want to get a cup of coffee?"

Draco hesitates. "I would love to but I really need to get back to work. I have an issue with the vaccine I'm working on." Draco watches the smile fade from Harry's face.

"Do you want to come with me? To my lab?"

"As long as I'm not intruding..."

"Not at all. I could use another set of eyes." Draco wraps his hand around Harry's upper arm. "Is a Side-Along alright?" 

"Perfectly," Harry responds. He feels the familiar pull in his stomach as Draco Disapparates them but the tingle on his skin where Draco's hand is resting is new.

\---------

Harry's not sure what he was expecting Draco's lab to look like, but clearly this isn't it. He is standing in the middle of a living room: two dark brown leather couches, a tooled wingback chair and footrest sit atop a honey-coloured wood floor. A coffee table and two end tables are stacked with medical books and full bookcases line the walls. A photo of Narcissa, Lucius and a very young Draco peer out of a gilded frame sitting next to a clock on the mantle above a large fireplace. 

"Tea?" Draco asks.

"Sure." Harry responds as he stares at the room, confusion settling in. Draco snaps his fingers and calls, "Mipsy!"

Moments later a house elf appears wearing a Muggle child's yellow slicker, floppy sun hat and mismatched socks. Harry stares dumbfounded as she says, "Should Mipsy be bringing some tea?"

"Please." Draco smiles at the house elf who disappears only to reappear moments later with a tea service for two. Harry watches mesmerized as she looks at the coffee table and sighs. "Really, Master," she chides as the books move and re-stack themselves neatly on the floor. She places the tray on the coffee table. He's not sure if he's more started by Draco's behavior or the elf's. "Thank you," says Draco bowing his head and Harry decides he's definitely more confused by Draco.

"Good grief, Potter," Draco chides. "It's been almost 10 years. People change, alright?"

"Yes. Of course." Harry shakes his head and smiles. While Harry would like an explanation for almost everything he's just witnessed Draco's right; it has been a long time. But Harry is conflicted because while people do change, this is Draco Malfoy standing before him: Slytherin Extraordinaire.

Draco motions to the couch and Harry sits. Draco positions himself on the couch opposite so they are facing each other and pours two cups of tea. He stirs a teaspoon of sugar in one cup and adds a small amount of milk before handing the cup to Harry. Draco purses his lips. "It is surprising actually," he concedes. "For me as well as you."

Harry thinks a moment before responding and decides to take the risk. "At dinner you said you wanted to learn about Muggles. And you've been so polite-- to me and your house-elf! And she's wearing clothes! And they're Muggle!"

"Yes, Potter. Yes, to everything you've just said. Mipsy's a free elf. I've even gotten her to accept an allowance, although that's taken about five years. I'd like to think we're even friends." Draco smirks at Harry over his cup of tea. "People change."

"Clearly," Harry says and takes a sip of his tea. It's the perfect temperature and Draco has made it exactly the way he likes. The couch is comfortable and he leans back into the firm cushions and sits musing over what that means and its possibilities while he drinks his tea.

"....and then I had to tell him that my calculations are correct but that I believe I'm missing something..." Draco trails off. "Potter. Are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry. Just zoned out there for a minute." Harry sits up and places his almost empty tea cup in its saucer.

"Luna says you do that." Draco says and flashes an amused smile at Harry.

"You talk to Luna about me?" He asks. 

"As I was saying...." Draco continues and clears his throat, "I met with Ernie yesterday and had to tell him that while my calculations are correct I believe I'm missing something."

Harry lets Draco change the subject. He's surprised that Draco talks about him with Luna but he's equally guilty. He's never specifically asked Luna about Draco in all the years since the Trials but when she mentions him, Harry always listens.

"So what is it that you think you're missing?"

"Well, that's the thing. Technically I shouldn't be missing anything but the potion isn't working so clearly that must be the problem."

Harry looks pensive so Draco continues. "There are laws governing potions and why, and how, they work. Do remember Golpalott's Third Law?" Draco asks just as Harry begins to recite:

"The antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components."

"Yes," Impressed, Draco smiles. "Exactly. Golpalott's Third is about poisons and their antidotes. It's the interaction of the separate ingredients that allow the antidote to become something more. And Golpalott's Fourth law extends that same notion to cures: The ingredients for a healing potion will be equal to more than the sum each of the individual ingredients. It's simple in it's obviousness."

"It makes sense," Harry agrees. 

"But it doesn't explain why my potions vaccine doesn't work. I _know_ the ingredients are correct, I _know_ the heat, the order of the ingredients, the brew time, everything! I know it's all correct. And yet. I'm missing something."

"Can I see?"

"Oh. Yes, of course." Draco stands and motions toward a hallway off the room they are currently in. "It's the second door on your left."

Harry stops in front of a dark polished wood door and waits as Draco pushes it open and steps inside. Now this, this is what Harry was expecting: long wooden tables lined with cauldrons and stacks of books, glass potion and ingredients bottles of all shapes and sizes packed neatly on shelves, each clearly labeled. Stirring rods, silver knives, pewter scissors, measuring spoons and a set of antique scales on another long table under a pair of long arched windows that allow the afternoon light in. And an upholstered club chair in the corner facing a large stone fireplace, a table beside it and a thin navy blanket folded neatly on the footrest. 

Harry enters the room and sits in the sole chair. The books stacked on the table appear to all be about shrews, or the Common Shrew, as most of the titles suggest. Just something else in a long list of things he'd like to ask Draco about. 

Draco looks around the room as if seeing it from Harry's eyes. "I guess I'll have to get another chair. I haven't had anyone in here for a while," he pauses, than adds, "Or ever."

"Well. I'm here," Harry says. He claps his hands together. "Show me what you've got." 

And Draco does. He spends the better part of an hour recreating the entire potion. Chopping ingredients, adding them to the slowly boiling water, explaining the magical ingredients and why they work, and more importantly, how they work together. Why the temperature is important, the direction of his wand movement and the steeping time until finally he has a duplicate potion bubbling away next to another.

"How are you administering it?" Harry asks after sitting thoughtfully for a few minutes.

"A measured dose given at 3 intervals throughout the day."

"And who's giving it to the patients?"

"I am."

"Draco!" Harry shouts rising from his chair. "You can't do that! You could be infected. You could be infecting me! I could be carrying Dragon Pox around and infecting entire wards!"

"Harry. No." Draco says calmly. "The disease's incubation period is 4 hours. I've been working with patients for FOUR days-- that's 96 hours-- I'd have it already and clearly I don't. Somehow I'm immune to it."

"No one's immune to Dragon Pox-- that's the problem with it, Draco."

"That's it." Draco whispers. He beams at Harry. "That's it!" He shouts. "Oh, Harry, you're a genius! I'm not missing an ingredient, I'm missing how to administer it!"

"How?" Harry asks, clearly confused.

"By inhaling it! I've been brewing it and sitting in this room for hours and hours on end. That's why I'm immune to it! The vaccine needs to be given in its gaseous state. Oh, I have to find Ernie. We need to set up a special room and treat all the patients there and... Oh! I have to get my notes but I think they should have immunity after six hours and be cured after eight. The implications of this-- do you know what this means? This is going to be _fantastic!_ " Harry is having trouble understanding everything that Draco is saying as he is speaking so quickly but Harry is smiling and nodding along with everything Draco says.

Draco grabs a few books and stacks of parchment from the lab table, turns and smiles at Harry. "Thank you. I'm going to St Mungo's to find Ernie." He pulls a Muggle pocket-watch from the pocket in his waistcoat and says, "He should still be there."

"Go." 

"Thanks Potter. Harry." Draco pleased smile is infectious and Harry finds himself smiling back just as broadly. Draco turns and steps towards the door. "Oh, what the hell," Draco says turning back toward Harry. 

Draco grabs Harry by his shoulders and tugs until they are inches apart. Before Harry can think about what's happening Draco's lips are on his. Draco pulls Harry closer and presses his lips more firmly against Harry's. 

Harry closes his eyes just as Draco's hands fall away and he steps back. "Mmmmm..." Harry moans. He opens his eyes at the pop of Disapparation. 

He is alone in Draco's potions lab. He can still feel the warm pressure of Draco's lips on his.  
Harry brings his hand up and rubs his fingers lightly across his lips.

Draco Malfoy is everything unexpected and completely unpredictable, and Harry is left wondering which way is up. 

He needs to sit.

\----------

"How long have you been sitting here in the dark?" Hermione asks as she lights the lamp with a flick of her wand.

"Is it dark?" Harry asks blinking open his eyes.

"It was." Ron says and sits next to Harry on the couch.

"I was just thinking and waiting for you to get home from work is all."

"Sorry, Harry. We met for dinner. You should have sent an Owl if you needed something."

"Oh, no. I'm good."

"Harry, you seem a little dazed, is everything alright."

"I'm fine, Hermione. Really." Harry looks up at her and gives her a genuine smile which eases the concern on her face. 

"How about a glass of wine?" She asks brightening.

"Sounds great." 

"Yes, please." Ron answers. Hermione looks over at Ron and quickly tilts her head toward Harry while widening her eyes. Harry knows this is Hermione's attempt at secret communication, only it's hardly covert since Harry has been on the receiving end of these head nods more often than he cares to admit. Hermione smiles at Harry as she heads to the kitchen.

"So. Mate," Ron begins carefully, "I didn't want to bring it up the other day when you were, you know, coming out... but you mentioned Malfoy. I was joking when I said he could be your true love, you know?"

"You were?" Harry asks pretending to be scandalized.

"Why?" Ron demands. "Did something happen between you and Malfoy?"

"No. Not really. I don't know, Ron." 

"So, something did happen?" 

Harry can only look at Ron. He doesn't know exactly how to answer his question as to whether something happened. He _thought_ he was going to Malfoy's potions lab to talk about the vaccine but instead found himself happily drinking tea in Malfoy's living room. He then spent hours in Malfoy's comfortable arm chair as he watched him recreate his Dragon Pox vaccine. So, what did happen? Well, he found out that Malfoy is a reclusive person who has a free house else named Mipsy who wears Muggle children's clothes; that Malfoy's house is very comfortable and Harry thought about stretching out in Draco's chair, putting his feet up and covering himself with Draco's blanket. And _smelling_ Draco's blanket, if he's being honest. He thinks about Draco's delight as they had worked out the issue with the vaccine and his pleasure at having Draco kiss him. _Kiss him!_ He wants to see him again.

"Not really." Harry tilts his head and looks at Ron. "We talked. And well, I _want_ something to happen."

Ron says nothing but just looks at Harry.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Harry asks.

"Nope."

\-----------

"I have to tell you since we're friends now but you kinda scared me at the beginning." Harry sits next to Sirona at their usual seat at the window at Perkatory.

Sirona scrunches her forehead. "What do you mean?"

"That day you came to the cafeteria to ask me about taking the Winslet file home..." Harry begins sheepishly. 

"Yes....?"

"I had met this witch earlier. She came up to me in Hogsmeade and well, I took her to tea. It was very surreal, this blind woman yelling at me about how I would meet the love of my life later that day. It was just so strange. And I thought you were asking me on a date. Sorry."

"Huh."

"Huh?"

"Well... Yeah. I definitely wasn't asking you out, as you know," Sirona begins. She tilts her head and scrutinizes Harry. "It's just weird you would say that about the witch and you meeting the love of your life. There's a Welsh fairy tale I heard a lot when I was growing up that sounds just like that." 

Harry raises his eyebrows and rests his elbows on the table. "Really?"

"I used to spend summers in Wales with my grandparents-- my grandmother is the reason my name is Sirona-- it means "healer" in Welsh, which is an entirely different story. Anyway, my grandmother and I used to go on walks in the woods and she would tell me all these Welsh fairy tales. One story I loved so much I would beg her to tell me over and over! It's such a great story. I grew up hoping _I_ would meet a seer who would make sure I found the love of my life. All kids do. It's about a woman who-- well, let me just tell you the story."

_Once there was a princess named Annwn who was the most beautiful woman in all the world. But unfortunately, she was also haughty and proud and had a sharp tongue. Her father, the king, was getting older and proclaimed that she was to choose a husband so that his name and the kingdom would live on._

_Kings and princes travelled from all over the world to seek her hand in marriage as they all knew of her great beauty. One by one, as they arrived, they would meet with the princess who would find fault with something and ridicule them. One, who had large ears she called an elephant, another who had a pointy chin she called a rat, and still another who was short she called a mite as so on. The princes and kings who had come all left the castle thinking very poorly of her because of her horrible behavior. Even though she was beautiful on the outside, she was ugly within._

_Her father chastised her behavior and told her that he would not live forever and that she needed to choose a husband. The princess relented and promised to be on her best behavior for future visits but after hearing of her sharp tongue and haughtiness no suitors came._

_Until one day a prince named Golygus came and met with the king and the princess in the Great Hall. Even though he looked about 20 years older than Annwn, the princess was surprised by his good looks and couldn't find fault with how tall he was, or the color of his hair or eyes. He was the most handsome man the princess had ever seen- it was as if he was made for her. Golygus told the king and princess that while he was a prince that his family had recently fallen upon hard times. While he still lived in a castle it was smaller than the one Annwn lived in and they had to let all but two of their servants go. They did not have a seamstress and had only one cook._

_Immediately the princess began talking about how rich she was and how many servants she had. Her father reminded her of her promise but she went on and on about how she would rather sleep outdoors if she couldn't live in a palace as great as this one. That she had the finest seamstress in the land who made her the most beautiful dresses and she would rather go naked than ever have to sew a stitch herself. That she had the best cooks in all the land and that she would rather eat worms than ever have to dirty her hands by preparing a meal._

_It was at this time that the prince revealed himself as a powerful wizard and turned the princess into a common shrew. In a show of compassion the wizard-prince also changed himself into a shrew so that she would not be alone._

_Annwn was horrified: her furry body was not clothed, she and Golygus were forced out of the castle and into the nearby woods and her diet consisted mainly of worms, slugs and spiders. She had poor eyesight but an excellent sense of smell and hearing. She and the wizad-prince lived in a small nest that they had made underground. Over time the princess began to realize how handsome Golygus was and she enjoyed stroking his brown, velvety fur. It was not long after, that Annwn realized how haughty and proud she had been and wished she could tell Golygus how sorry she was. The princess realized she was in love._

_As if sensing her realization the wizard-prince turned them back into humans. They sat naked on the forest floor looking into each other's eyes as the princess told Golygus of her love for him and how sorry she was for her behavior._

_The wizard-prince said, "I saw a beautiful woman when I came to your castle and knew that your beauty was not only skin deep. Because of your shrewish behavior I turned you into a common rodent so that you would appreciate all that you have. I love you and if you'll have me, I would like to make you my wife so that we may live out our days together." The princess was overjoyed and the two returned to the castle and lived and loved happily for many years._

_Toward the end of Golygus' life the princess--who was now the queen-- told the wizard-prince-- who was now the king-- how happy she was that he had awakened her true spirit so that she could find the love of her life. They had had no children and she wanted to help others find their true love as well. With his dying breath the wizard-prince summoned all of his magical powers and transformed Annwn into an Animagus with the gift of prophecy so that she could spend the rest of her days helping to make sure no one else missed the opportunity to find the love of their life as well."_

"And that's it really. It reminded me of your story about your witch telling you about meeting the love of _your_ life."

"Huh."

"Well, that's certainly not the response I expected but--"

"No." Harry shakes his head. "The witch I met. She said her name was Annwn. Something like Seeg Annwn."

Sirona's mouth drops open, astonished. "L-L-Y-G is pronounced "Seeg." 

"Yeah, so?"

"This is going to sound really weird but Llyg means "shrew" in Welsh."

It's Harry's turn to look astonished. "You're totally fucking with me, right?"

"I promise," Sirona says looking Harry directly in his eyes, "I'm not."

Harry's face drains of all colour and he whispers, "The other day. When I ran out of the coffee shop it was because I thought I saw her and I wanted to talk to her. But instead I lost her in the crowd and I ran straight into--"

"Draco Malfoy." 

"Yes, Draco Malfoy. Who, as absurd as it sounded at the time, said he was following a shrew..." Harry's voice trials off as he looks into the distance. "I have to go!" Harry stands so abruptly that he knocks over his chair. He rights it with a wave of his hand as Sirona giddily yells, "Yes! Go find the love of your life!"

Harry turns toward the door but rushes back and kisses the top of Sirona's head before he disappears with a pop.

Harry can no longer deny that he wants Draco. Whether it was the witch that made him see that, whether she just gave him the push he needed, or whether Sirona's fairytale is the culmination of everything he was hoping, he is astonished at how it feels to be on the cusp of something new. He had felt this way when he began working at St Mungo's and now that he feels that newness and longing again, he wants to rush out and find Draco. He hasn't felt like a foolish, impetuous Gryffindor in a long time and the rush of exhilaration makes him feel giddy and anxious and brilliant.

\----------

"Hey, mate. What are you doing here?" Ron asks from his seat at the kitchen table.

"Are you hungry, Harry?" Hermione asks as she pushes her chair back to stand.

"No, I'm good."

Ron and Hermione look at each other and then back to Harry who is standing in their kitchen looking confused.

"Is Teddy alright?"

"Yes."

"Andromeda?"

"She's good."

"Everything at work?"

"Yup. All good." 

"Harry. What is it?"

"Everything's good." Harry smiles at each of them. "What?"

"I don't know. You just Apparated here and now your standing in our kitchen looking--"

"Draco kissed me," Harry blurts.

"Okay..." Hermione and Ron exchange a brief look. 

"And I liked it."

"Good," Hermione says.

"No, like he _really_ kissed me. Pushed me up against the wall and everything."

"Too much information mate," Ron groans.

"I'm glad you liked it," Hermione giggles. "Is that why you look so dazed?"

"Maybe," Harry replies sheepishly as he feels his face heat. 

"Maybe you should sit?"

"No," Harry replies. "I've done enough sitting. I need to find Draco, only I don't know where he lives."

"Haven't you been to his house?" Hermione asks.

"I have but, he Side-Alonged me."

"Uck," Ron whines, "Don't say it like that. It sounds like something sexual."

"Piss off, Ron," Harry says and sticks out his tongue.

"You have that card that you're always folding open and closed? You know, the one you look at and always have that dumb look on your face?" Ron reminds him.

"What?"

"His card? Remember?" 

Harry reaches into his pocket and withdraws two pieces of the card Draco gave him the first time they met. He holds them up and aligns them. "You're a genius," Harry says.

"Yeah, well." Ron grins. 

Hermione, who has been watching the entire exchange, happily whispers, "Go."

Harry doesn't need to be told twice. 

He Apparates to a quiet section outside Wizarding London. He's standing at the bottom of a flight of steps leading up to Draco's flat. Or what he assumes to be Draco's flat since he's never been on the outside. He smiles up at the front door and quickly makes his way up the steps and knocks. Nothing happens. He lifts the door knocker-- Harry is not surprised that it is a dragon--and bangs it against its plate three times. Still nothing. As he raises his hand to knock again he feels a warning tingle and realizes a second too late that he's triggered one of Draco's wards. With a piercing shock to his knuckles Harry decides to sit and wait rather than risk activating any further wards Draco has set to deter any unwanted visitors.

Harry waits as the night grows colder. Harry sighs and casts a Tempus charm as his eyes grow used to the night sky and he can see more and more stars through the yellow light of the nearby street lamp. He casts another Warming charm and another Cushioning charm on the steps and decides he'll give Draco a few more minutes; he has the early shift at the hospital tomorrow.

He hears Draco before he sees him. He's whistling again. Harry smiles and turns his head in the direction of the sound and sees Draco-- hair mussed and pale cheeks lightly pinked from the wind. He's wearing a dark grey wool coat with the collar pulled up; Harry decides he quite likes the blond and grey combination. While it appears Harry is waiting patiently his insides are a tangle of knots and his heart is racing. He thinks Draco can hear the thumping as he comes to a sudden stop at the bottom of the stairs. Harry is sitting on the fourth step and Draco's eyes are level with his. Draco grins and motions to his front door. Harry stands.

He enters Draco's flat first and slowly removes his scarf and wool coat. Draco takes the items and hangs them, along with his own coat, on hooks beside his front door. The sound of the lock turning in the tumbler is loud. 

Harry looks at Draco only to find only to find he has chosen that exact moment to look at him. His eyes are searching and intense. He stares into Harry's eyes until finally he seems to find the answer he has been looking for.

Suddenly Draco presses his hand under Harry's chin-- thumb on one side of his neck, fingers on the other-- the pressure causes Harry to tip his head back. He's not being choked but for a moment Harry thinks he should knock Draco's hand away or push him but as his wide eyes meet Draco's he doesn't see any of the arrogance he's expecting. Instead Harry sees Draco arch one eyebrow as his crooked grin grows wider. He applies light pressure to his hand and pushes Harry backwards until he bumps into the wall. 

Harry is still looking into Draco's eyes and watching as Draco looks at his mouth and then licks his lips. Harry realizes he is just standing there leaning against the wall with his arms hanging limply at his sides with Draco's hand at his throat. He begins to raise his arms-- to do what, he's not sure-- but Draco captures a wrist in each of his hands and raises them above Harry's head. Harry's breath hitches. Draco leans in and rests his forehead against Harry's. He can feel Draco's warm breath, can hear their ragged breathing and he wants Draco. He can feel Draco's cock pressing into his-- even through layers of denim and cotton Harry can feel how hard he is-- how hot-- and can't help the moan that escapes. Draco is standing so close and they are both staring into each other's eyes and finally, it's too intense for Harry so he closes his lids. Draco's fingers thread through Harry's and he presses the back of Harry's hands against the wall. Draco's hands are surprisingly warm and Harry enjoys the way their fingers feel entwined together. His eyelids flutter open and he looks at Draco and smiles.

"Yes..." Draco hisses and pushes into Harry again. He nudges Harry's legs together so that each of his legs straddle Harry's. Draco pulls at Harry's hands stretching them further up the wall and grinds his cock against Harry's. 

"Please..." Harry moans just as Draco presses his full weight on him and traces Harry's lips with the tip of his tongue. He pushes his tongue into Harry's mouth and Draco runs his tongue over Harry's teeth. Harry opens his mouth wider and relaxes against the wall enjoying the feeling of letting go while Draco takes control and explores his mouth. Harry thinks he'd let Draco do anything to him at this point. Draco shifts so that he has both of Harry's hands within his grip while the other travels down Harry's side. He bites gently at Harry's lips, grinding himself against him again. 

"Oh, gods..." Harry whispers and Draco suddenly has both his hands cupping Harry's face and they are kissing. Oh, gods, how they are kissing. Harry has never been kissed like this: never had such a hard body pressed against his, never felt so good giving up control, never had anyone want to be in control. He's only been with women before, and while it has been a couple of years since he last had sex, he feels it's always been his role as the man to be in charge. This feels strange if only for that reason. He's obviously a man but being with another man makes him feel... relief? Harry rests his hands on Draco's waist; he feel unsure of himself and wonders why he feels insecure. He trusts Draco and Draco obviously seems to be enjoying himself as much as he is. 

Draco senses his unease. "Don't think, just feel," he murmurs against Harry's neck as he licks a wet path toward his ear. 

"I can't," Harry whispers. 

Draco places his hands on Harry's hips, pulling back he looks him in his eyes. "Potter, don't confuse your submission or surrender as being weak."

"Potter now, is it?" Harry manages.

"Potter-- Harry-- Mine. It's all the same." Draco explains. "How I've wanted-- Harry, please don't be embarrassed by allowing me to take control."

"It feels so good," Harry admits.

"Do you trust me?"

Harry's immediate answer is, "Yes." 

"Do you like the way I make you feel?"

"Yes." Harry can feel his face heat under Draco's intense eye contact.

"Why?"

"Come on, Draco." Harry says looking down.

Draco puts his hand under Harry's chin and tilts his head back so that Harry can't hide his eyes. "Tell me." 

"I like you in control. I like how it makes me feel, alright? It's... Freeing."

"Good. You look amazing when you surrender to me."

Harry can feel his face heating again as Draco laces their fingers together and leads Harry to the couch. He motions for Harry to sit and he does just as Draco climbs onto his lap and straddles his thighs.

"Then please. Allow me," Draco says softly between kisses. He gently tugs at Harry's hair and elicits a low moan and a soft smile from Harry. "Please," Draco says again.

"Yes," Harry breathes. 

"You can give and also be taken."

Harry is intrigued by Draco's softly spoken words and allows himself to melt into the couch as Draco uses his mouth to take him apart.

\----------

In the morning Harry finds himself alone in Draco's plush bed. He can hear noises coming from down the hall-- Draco in his potions lab he thinks. He stretches out fully and then slowly sits up. Draco's bedroom is posh but Harry is surprised to see it's not decorated in Slytherin colors. The walls are a very pale blue and the room feels light and airy. There are two fluffy white towels neatly folded at the end of the bed. Harry's see his jeans, T-shirt, jumper, pants and socks on the arm chair by the fireplace, also folded and neatly placed in a pile. He gathers the towels and his clean clothes-- he can smell the citrusy detergent-- and makes his way through an open door into a vast ensuite. The walls, floor and shower enclosure are covered in marble and a bathtub that could easily accommodate two people takes up much of the remainder of the room. A bar of soap, a new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste sits atop two folded beige washcloths by the double sink which is surrounded by a long marble counter. A narrow door leads to a small room with a toilet and another sink. Harry smiles. He could get used to this.

After filling the room with Draco-scented steam and toweling off Harry listens to the noises Draco is making in the potions lab while he gets ready. He likes hearing someone else; he likes knowing that someone else in nearby. Although he spent a small fortune updating and renovating Grimmauld Place, he's almost always at Ron and Hermione's or Andromeda's when he's not at work. 

Harry knocks lightly on the open lab door and Draco looks up quickly from his notes. His face transforms from a serious expression into a smile so bright and pleased that for a moment Harry is left speechless as he realizes that smile is for him. Draco picks up his stack of parchment and waves it in the air. "Dragon Pox vaccine trials today."

Harry smiles back and rakes his hand through his hair nervously.

"Did you sleep well?" Draco asks as he comes to stand in front if Harry.

"Yes, thank you. Your bed is very comfortable." Harry blushes. "Where did you sleep?" 

"I often spend nights in my lab watching my potions brew. I find the chair in my lab to be moderately comfortable." 

Harry's pretty sure last night wasn't just a one off but wants to make sure. "Maybe next time we can share the bed?" 

"Are you available tonight?"

"Definitely," Harry answers feeling an aroused heat flush through his body.

"Shall we walk to the hospital together?"

"Yeah, a walk sounds good."

"Give me a few minutes to get everything in order, would you? I've asked Mipsy to prepare tea and toast for you." Draco points Harry toward the kitchen and he follows his nose towards the smell of toast.

As he sits crunching his toast Harry thinks how a few weeks ago he wouldn't have believed anyone if they had told him how much Draco had changed. It's clear to Harry that while he's filled his life with a great career and good friends that he's definitely been lonely. And Draco's life seems to be filled with his work-- which is truly great as he's made some life-saving medical advancements and is so dedicated to helping others-- but he's been very lonely too. Harry hadn't known he was looking for someone to take care of him-- he blushes at the memory of Draco taking control last night-- but it had been Harry's best sexual experience, so far. And Draco being so in control last night seems to be just what he needed as well. They go well together, Harry thinks, they are opposites but also so similar.

Later, as they leave Draco's flat and step out into the chilly winter morning, the steam from their breath puffing out into the brisk air, they share a knowing smile. 

Harry silently examines Draco's pale hair, his pointed nose and sharp features, his robes and his long graceful strides as they walk in companionable silence. Harry opens his mouth to tell Draco his funny story about the witch he met who proclaimed he would meet the love of his life but is stunned into silence as he realizes that he is already falling in love with this man.


End file.
